


The Wanderer

by Umerue



Series: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Roshan Lavellan [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Family Fluff, Gen, Kid!Fic, Not Beta Read, parallel worlds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6156928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umerue/pseuds/Umerue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirthamen's son runs away from home. </p><p>Uses the same characters and basic setting as the series, but can be read as a single story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wanderer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [figmentz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/figmentz/gifts).



> This is a prompt from one of my regular commenters. She wanted her Lavellan to gift a nug for Nuglet and play a Solavellan house with him for a while. 
> 
> As always, I gladly accept prompts for one-shots.

Nuglet was going to have a baby sister. He was not happy at all.  
“Babies are gross.” he told enthusiastically to his father. “Put it back to Fade where it came from.”  
His father looked thoughtful. He had been teaching Nuglet how to wake up all kinds of things. It had been great fun until the bad news.  
“You are skipping some steps with your theory, Shielan. Even though spirits come from the Beyond, recreation isn’t as simple as you think.”  
“I don’t want a baby sister.” Nuglet said, stomping his foot. “I said put it back!”  
“No.”, Dirthamen replied, turning back to his work, a shining shield which had once belonged to his priests.  
Nuglet was surprised, and not in a good way. Usually, when he threw a tantrum, most people did what he wanted. His nurses and servants always obeyed him. Dorian usually just pinched his check – it didn’t hurt because Dorian wasn’t really solid – and called him a baby magister before running to do Nuglet’s bidding. Mamae was only one who told him no, and even she didn’t do it very often, because she was very busy with Thedas. Maybe Nuglet had been somehow unclear about his orders to papae.  
“You have to!” he raised his voice. “I don’t want a baby sister!”  
“That is very unfortunate, because you are going to have one.” his father remarked, studying the scratches on the surface of metal.  
Nuglet glared at him. He was rapidly changing his mind about wanting his papae back. After papae had gotten well and moved away from Tarasyl’an Tel’as, there had been _changes_. Nuglet could no longer sneak to sleep with mamae, saying that he had a bad dream. It was because papae somehow knew every time he was lying, and he said that Nuglet was old enough to sleep in his own bed and lying to one’s mamae was bad. Mamae looked very disappointed and it made Nuglet’s insides feel scratchy and spiky. She didn’t even defend Nuglet when papae strictly told him that there was no room in mamae’s bed because papae slept there, and then he got up and walked Nuglet back to nursery even though Nuglet liked mamae’s bed better.  
Nuglet was a man. An Evanuris. He knew he had to stand on his ground. And he was angry.  
“If you bring disgusting baby into my room, I will throw it out from the window when you don’t see!” he yelled at papae. “Or I will turn mamae’s belly into stone so the baby will turn into stone too, and you have to put it back to Fade then!”  
Papae turned around and looked at him, slowly from head to toes. He didn’t look pleased at all. Nuglet swallowed, feeling a little bit frightened.  
“You will never again threaten your mother or your sister.” papae said very clearly. “Your mother would be very upset to hear you speak like that. Having a sibling is a blessing, and it is rapidly coming clear to me that you are developing rather spoiled, self-centred nature. This kind of behaviour will not go on. ”  
He scooped Nuglet up, unfairly blocking Nuglet’s magical and physical attacks with effortless barrier. Nuglet screamed for sheer indignity of it.  
“I’m not a baby! You can’t just pick me up and order me around! I hate you! I hate you!” he screamed as loud as he could. “I will tell everyone that you became mad again and then mamae will make you go back to Skyhold and nobody will ever come to see you again!”  
His father snorted, paying no attention to people who stared at them as he carried Nuglet through the hall.  
“For five-year-old, you are a bit megalomaniac.”  
“I’m not five! I’m six! Six! And I’m not megalowhatever! Stop using words I don’t know!” Nuglet screamed.  
“It’s high time you learned there are others with more power and relevance than you. You are loved, but you are still a little boy, who is not the king of this castle.” father stated and pushed open the door to nursery.  
“But I am!” Nuglet glared at him venomously.  
“No.”, Dirthamen replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am. And you are grounded until you sincerely apologize the vicious things you just said.”  
“Uncle grounded me once, for a hundred years, and I got out after four days!” Nuglet lifted his chin up.  
“Ah, but that was you Uncle. I’m much more patient than Falon’Din. I can wait.” his father replied. “A day, a month, a hundred years or five hundred years hardly makes a difference to me. You will not leave from this room before you apologize and mean it.”  
Looking at Nuglet, Dirthamen raised up a finger, placing his other hand on door handle.  
“Remember. I will know if you try to lie.”  
Nuglet let out a screech of sheer fury, and pulled out his special ball from under the mattress, carefully hidden inside a woolly sock.  
“I will go far far away and never come back home again, and you will weep forever until your eyes fall out!” he yelled at papae and shook the sock. Suddenly he felt a surge of power, and there was a bright light, and last thing Nuglet saw was startled expression on papae’s face when grandpapae’s ball exploded in rainbow-coloured light.

 **\--Somewhere far, far away. --**  
**9:41 Dragon, after Adamant Fortress but before the Temple of Mythal.**

 

Nuglet was utterly relieved when he found himself in familiar place, standing at the stairs leading to garden at Tarasyl’an Tel’as. The fortress was less dusty than he remembered, and someone had changed the decorations. There were much more people, too, than he remembered. He blinked, looking around, and then he noticed that he no longer held the woolly sock with grandpapae’s golden ball inside it. The sky looked very funny with a giant green hole on it, and his magic felt very strange, suffocated and weakened. Maybe he had broken it, playing with grandpapae’s ball without permission. His lower lip started to tremble, and he was on the edge of tears when a shadow fell on him.  
“Hey, where did you come from, little fellow?” a giant man with horns and only one eye asked him. Nuglet took a step back. He had never seen anyone looking like this before. Not even a demon.  
“What are you?” he asked in trembling voice.  
“The name is the Iron Bull.”, the man said. “Are you one of Leliana’s spies?”  
“Leliana? I’m nobody’s spy.” Nuglet announced, trying to sound regal even though he was frightened.  
The giant ox man whistled between his teeth.  
“It could be a good plan, you know. Krem! Go and get the Boss!”  
“I want mamae.” Nuglet said, not feeling brave anymore. “You should send for mamae, not for your boss. My mamae is everyone’s boss.”  
“She is?” the ox-man asked conversationally, placing a huge hand on Nuglet’s back and gently guiding him towards the great hall.  
“Of course. She is the All-Mother.”, Nuglet sniffed. “I want to go home to mamae.”  
“The Boss will certainly help you out. She has a big heart, and she’ll be most interested to hear your story.” the giant man said good-naturedly. “But she’s been busy with Solas for most of the morning. How about some milk and cookies while we wait, and you can tell me all about your mamae.”  
Nuglet nodded. He was getting hungry, and it was not likely he would get any cookies after papae came to fetch him back.  
“Did you renew the wards after papae moved away?” he asked curiously. “The air tastes funny here. Like the Fade was suffocated.”  
The Iron Bull looked at him, shaking his great head.  
“Are you certain you and Solas aren’t related? He could be your father, from the way you sound.”  
Nuglet was very confused.  
“Of course not!” he said, shaking his head enthusiastically. “He died before I was born.”  
He frowned, following the Iron Bull towards the kitchen.  
“Come to think of it, most people I know died when I was a baby, but Solas died when the Veil came down.”  
“Hmh.” the Iron Bull grumbled. “For a little guy, you certainly are a strange one.”

There weren’t many things on the face of Thedas which could surprise Figment Lavellan, but the elven child eating cookies with the Iron Bull and chatting about state of the Veil was certainly one of them.  
“Boss.”, the Iron Bull greeted her with obvious relief in his voice. “We have a problem. This little guy here says he ran away from home, and he needs help getting back to his mother.”  
“If you are the boss of Skyhold, you must know my mamae.” the little boy said eagerly. He spoke king’s tongue with definite Tevene accent. “And papae, too. He lived here for years. I need to get back home.”  
“I’m sure we can help you.” Figment smiled. “Do you remember where your mamae worked here? Josephine has lists of everyone here, and I will gladly help you to find your parents.”  
“Of course I do. Solas has told me much about mamae. She was the Inquisitor.” the boy announced confidently.  
The Iron Bull arched his eyebrow, giving Figment a loaded glance. Figment blushed up to tips of her ears. She loved Solas, whole fortress knew it, but...  
“I’m sorry, da’len, but I am the Inquisitor. My name is Figment Lavellan, and Solas is the Fade expert working for the Inquisition. You must have mistaken with names.” she said kindly, kneeling next to little boy.  
“I’m not mistaken.” the lyrium-blue eyes started to fill with tears. “My mamae was the Inquisitor, and now she is the All-Mother, and I used to come here through an eluvian to meet papae when he was still sick. I want to go home to mamae.”  
The little boy started to cry. Fat tears fell on the raisin cookies, and Figment wrapped her arms around him.  
“Oh, you poor dear.” she said, not knowing what to do, or what to ask. She looked at the Iron Bull, forming the word _eluvian_ without speaking. The Qunari nodded, standing up and vanishing discreetly to check on Morrigan’s mirror.  
“How did you get separated from your mamae?” Figment asked from the child.  
“Papae said I was going to have a little sister but I didn’t want one, and I threatened to turn mamae and the new baby into stone and papae told me to apologize and I didn’t. Then I took grandpapae’s ball and threatened to run away from home and magic happened. Papae tried to reach for me, I think, but then I was suddenly here — I want to go home.“, the poor thing broke in flood of tears.  
“Don’t cry, da’len, don’t cry.” Figment said, pulling the child on her lap and hugging him. “I promise, we will help you to get back home to your parents.”

“This is very complicated situation.” Figment sighed, opening the door to Solas. “I’ve tried to ask, but the child doesn’t know the proper names of his parents or any other relatives. He told me that his name is Shielan, but everyone calls him Nuglet, and he is six years old. Looks smaller to me. He also says that his Uncle calls his mother Roshie and his father Dirth, but I don’t remember anyone by those names in Inquisition. Josephine is checking the list of workers.”  
“The Iron Bull told me that the child had mentioned travelling through eluvian, but Morrigan’s mirror has not been used.” Solas said, climbing up the stairs gracefully.  
Before Figment could answer, a relieved little voice shouted his name.  
“Solas! Did mamae send you? Are you mad at me?”  
The language was actual, pre-Veil elvish. Solas’ eyes widened, his mask dropping for an instant, and he had no time to react when a little boy wearing luxurious robes ran to him, hugging him without reservation.  
He blinked, looking down at the beaming little face. There was something familiar he could not quite place in the child’s features. But then his attention was taken by child’s clothes. The boy wore Fade-touched robes of pure grey, embroidered with protective runes worked in the fabric. The little black trim on the sleeves and hems marked him a Dreamer mage apprentice according the class system of old. Judging by his size and age, he was way too young for his magic to manifest strongly enough to need training yet – except in a culture where everyone was born with the gift.  
“Solas?” the child tugged his tunic. “I asked you if mamae sent you. I’m very sorry. I should not have yelled at papae, and I promise to apologise the nasty things I said, for real. I didn’t mean to run away from home, and I don’t know how to get back to grandpapae’s palace. Lady Figment says that you have no eluvian in the mountains near Tarasyl’an Tel’as, and mamae didn’t teach me the key to open it.”  
“Da’len.” Solas felt his mouth turn dry as he spoke to the child in elvish. “I think you might have ran much farther than you ever intended.”

 

“I’m no longer certain that becoming the Inquisitor is the strangest thing which has ever happened to me.”, Figment said later that night. “Nobody here had any idea on how he got here, but I don’t think he is a Dalish. Or a city elf. I thought he might have been from Tevinter, based on the accent, but Dorian says that no elf could have afforded those kind of clothes.”  
Nuglet, who was exhausted and more than a bit homesick, had agreed to borrow one of Solas’ shirts for a nightgown and crawl into bed only after Solas promised he would hold his hand and ward off any bad dreams about evil goats. The boy had fallen asleep without much persuasion after that, but Solas was still sitting by the bed, holding the child’s hand. Solas looked very serious, like he was trying to make his mind about something.  
“What is it, Solas? It feels like you are very far from me, now.” Figment said softly.  
“I’m sorry, vhenan.” Solas replied, clearing his throat. He looked at the sleeping child and then straightened his shoulders, turning towards Figment.  
“I believe.” he began slowly, “that Nuglet is not from Thedas as we know it. There are thousand paths in the Fade, and they all lead to different outcome. The elvhen of old knew it, and there were ones who could use that knowledge to their advantage. Fates twist like branches of a tree, creating canvases which hardly remember each other at all even though the spirits acting out the play stay the same. Based on what I have seen in the memories of the Fade, I think the child is from one of the parallel worlds. From different branch of our tree.”  
“Oh.”, Figment said. “So you believe he speaks the truth when he says his mother was the Inquisitor. But he also says that the Veil fell before his birth, and it no longer exists. He was very distressed about the effect on his magic, and it took long time before I could calm him down. I don’t think... His world sounds nothing like the dark future I saw at Redcliffe.”  
“Maybe it just means that the world without the Veil does not necessarily equate a negative outcome.” Solas answered. He was deep in thought as he watched the sleeping child, and Figment would have given much to know what had captured his mind so strongly.

\--

Even though Figment was kind and assured him that they would try to find out how to get Nuglet home, Nuglet took it hard when Solas explained the branch thing to him patiently. He was desolate, and cried against Solas’ shoulder for better part of an hour. He was cheered up only when one of Leliana’s pet nugs, a black nug with red spots called Freyette, escaped from the third floor of rotunda and caused much commotion at the library. Dorian, who was not pleased to accidentally step on a nug hiding under his favourite chair, gave it to Nuglet with strict orders to keep the animal away from his corner of library floor. Nuglet, who clearly favoured Dorian and Solas above all other members of the Inquisition, took his new responsibility seriously.  
“The animal has proven to be a good distraction from his loss.” Solas said later on the day as he and Figment watched the boy to cut turnips for his pet nug as Leliana had instructed.  
“I only wish it would not have to be this way.” Figment said. “He misses his home so badly.”  
“Even the most powerful mages of Elvhenan did not tread the paths between the branches lightly. It is too easy to get lost. The Dalish legends about the twins accompanying the dreaming elders in search of wisdom hold a grain of truth, if only a grain.”

\--

“This is certainly interesting.” Morrigan mused, sitting in the garden. “My Kieran does not warm to other children easily, but there is something in this foundling of yours which has made them fast friends. But I warn you: if Leliana attempts to hoist another one of her pigs on me, I will teach the children a cooking lesson in Orzammar cuisine.”  
“It’s is not a pig. It’s Orlesian pet nuglet. Completely different.” Figment corrected firmly.  
“How did you find elven boy dressed like Grand Enchanter from Orlesian court, in robes covered with old runes I can hardly recognize? It’s most curious sight, you have to admit that.” Morrigan replied, watching the boys play.  
“It is a mystery I don’t know the answer for.”, Figment admitted, settling on partial truth.  
“As you wish, Inquisitor.” Morrigan replied.  
Nuglet, who had been persuaded to wear something less distinctive, was building something from sticks and leaves, speaking animatedly, and Kieran was following him with a great interest. Freyette was hiding under a bush nearby, as was her habit. Nugs had good survival instincts.  
“But you will keep an eye on them?” Figment needed to be sure. “He is an apostate mage, with no understanding on how the Circles work.”  
“Of course. I’ve fended off overeager templars when I was nothing but a slip of a girl; an hour more will hardly make a difference.” Morrigan said, and Figment had to be content with that.  
Sighing, the Inquisitor took off to next meeting of the War Council to plan the next operation against Corypheus at the temple of Mythal. Good nannies were hard to find, but surely Morrigan could keep the boys off trouble.

In days that followed, Figment was pleased to see that a fast friendship had indeed developed between Nuglet and Kieran. The boys were inseparable. Varric called them “same kind of strange”, remarking how the kids seemed pleased to sit on the grass and spend most of their time talking under Morrigan’s watchful eye than ran and play like other children in the castle.  
Figment was a bit worried about that at first, but Solas brought her concerns to rest, as always.  
“Those two are both old souls.” he remarked. “In earlier part of my life, I found joy from companionship of others of my kind, and I’m pleased to see an accident of fate has not robbed Nuglet of that.”  
“What do you mean? Companionship of your kind?” Figment asked.  
“The company of other Dreamers. Both boys have the gift.” Solas replied.  
“Ah. I thought you meant you had a family.”  
“In a manner of speaking, I had. I was not born from a colour-coded egg if you ask.” Solas chuckled.  
“I just thought you seem to handle him so well.” Figment said. “You would be a wonderful father.”  
Solas looked surprised for a moment, but then his face softened in a smile.  
“I’ve never thought myself like that, but I appreciate your words, vhenan.” he said. “I can’t be helped but feel drawn to a boy. He is a stranger in strange land, a product of another time entirely. It is a lonely fate, and one I would not wish for someone so young.”  
“You are a good man, Solas. And a good father. It’s your turn to put him to sleep.” Figment brushed his face with her hand. As Solas left, she tucked her legs under her in the chair and looked at the darkening night, her eyes soft with dreams. Maybe when the fight with Corypheus was over, they could talk about the future. For him, for her, and for their boy. She was ready to include the nug, too.

The news about Temple of Mythal took everyone by surprise, and the fortress was a busy as a beehive when all able-bodied persons prepared to march towards the Arbour Wilds. The Inquisitor was needed everywhere, and so was the lady Morrigan, who began to accompany the Inquisitor and her advisors in planning the attack against Corypheus’ forces searching for eluvian. Even though their cause was important, it also meant that the two little boys were largely left to their own pursuits. Even Solas was busy with his own work, and nobody kept an eye on the little ones who were known to be silent and good ones. Sera, with all her tricks, needed to be watched more carefully.

But it meant that one day, merely two days before the Inquisition was set out to leave towards Arbor Wilds, Kieran and Nuglet shared a very important discussion sitting next to Freyette’s favourite hiding place.  
“I can hear her in my sleep, and now when I’m awake, too.” Kieran whispered to Nuglet. “Grandmother calls me, and says it’s time to come to her, soon. She says I must not tell mother.”  
Nuglet frowned.  
“But she isn’t a nice grandmother. Not _wholly_ nice.” he corrected his statement quickly, in case Mythal was listening. “What if she wants to take your body for a vessel?”  
“I would not like that.” Kieran said miserably.  
“I think we should ask help from a grown-up.”, Nuglet decided.  
“From who? We can’t tell them what I am. Or what you are. Or about grandmother.” Kieran sniffed. “I can’t tell mother. I already tried, but the words would not come out.”  
“A silence spell?” Nuglet asked helplessly. “I don’t know how to counter one yet.”  
“I think it’s a geas.” Kieran’s shoulders slumped. “Why everyone else gets a nice grandmother who bakes buns, and we get Mythal? Mother doesn’t even know that she is Mythal.”  
“I don’t know.” Nuglet shook his head. It was simply unfair. He remembered that mamae had said that once she and Solas had both served Mythal, doing her will, and he could not be sure if Solas here was Mythal’s wolf, too. So he couldn’t tell to Solas, and Dorian wouldn’t believe him. He thought of trying to tell lady Figment, but she might not believe her and if she did, she could get hurt. Nuglet didn’t think it was fair to put someone as nice as lady Figment against grandmother. He didn’t remember much about Mythal himself, but he had heard stories from other members of his family. Mamae had taught him from very young age that giving your body to someone else’s vessel was A Very Bad Thing, and Nuglet should never agree to it, no matter who asked and how good reason it was.  
“Look, there is something exciting I heard today.” Kieran’s face brightened. “About your dad.”  
“What?” Nuglet felt his heart jump into his throat.  
“The Inquisition has found a temple for your dad from the northern coast of Waking Sea. I heard mother speaking about it with Cillian. He had translated a series of elven glyphs the Inquisitor found from Exalted Plains, and they pinpoint the location in north-eastern Orlais, stating that Dirthamen’s Wisdom is hidden there. It’s not very far from one of the summer houses we had to visit when mother was a member of Imperial Court.”  
“But that is what we must do!” Nuglet’s eyes widened with excitement. “We have to go to papae’s temple, and call him, and then he will come out from hiding and help you with grandmother and take me back home! Solas said that it is very difficult to find someone from the different branches, but if I call papae in his own temple, he will surely hear.”  
Kieran cocked his head on the side.  
“Do you think he would help me with grandmother?” he asked shyly.  
“Of course he would. Papae is much better with silence spells than anyone else, and he knows how to handle grandmother. And you are my only cousin.” Nuglet said, squeezing Kieran’s hand.  
The older boy seemed very hopeful.  
“Thank you. I’m not so frightened anymore.” Kieran said, squeezing Nuglet’s hand. “You are truly my best friend. I think I can remember how it felt like to be a dragon, so we can travel to your dad’s temple as soon as it is dark. But I don’t think we can tell anyone where we are going, because people don’t like how my dragon looks like. You remember what mother told us about templars coming after her and grandmother when she was small?”  
“Yes.” Nuglet said, shivering. “I don’t think I want templars coming after us. Commander Cullen is a templar, and he has a pelt on his shoulders. I hope it isn’t a bear. Papae wouldn’t like that.”  
“I don’t think he would.” Kieran agreed.  
”I will steal some cookies for snack, if you can get us some tea in a bottle. I really don’t want to fall asleep now that you told about grandmother lurking in the Fade.”  
“You wouldn’t.”, Kieran nodded, and so it was decided. They would leave as soon as their guardians slept.

 

Figment noted that Nuglet was busy writing a note by her desk that evening, but when she asked if he needed help, the boy smiled and said it was a surprise.  
“You should take it with you when you go away with Inquisition.” he said, looking so very serious and adorable that Figment just had to kiss his little face. She gave him privacy, watching him write staggering letters with great concentration and tried not to smile too openly. Josephine, who was very taken with a knightly gesture, lent him a piece of sealing wax and one of the Inquisition seal rings to close the letter.  
“Will you keep it for me, or do you want me to keep it in a drawer?” Figment asked.  
“I don’t want you to peek inside before you have a permission.” the child said seriously. “Solas says you are a bit too curious, lady Figment.”  
Her vhenan, who was reading on the couch, was secretly smiling behind his book when Figment gave him a glare of fake shock.  
“He is a smart boy.” Solas noted noncommittally.  
“You two are just terrible.” Figment sighed, shaking her head. “Time to go sleep, now.”

However, sleep had never came easy to Figment. As ironic as it was for a woman whose lover preferred to spend most of his time asleep, she was an insomniac. Figment’s nights were restless and largely spent reading reports and lately, of Orlesian family drama and fluffy romances. Her relationship with Solas was turning into something different. A family.  
She did not know which one of the Creators had sought to bless her so unexpectedly with the boy, but when the night fell and she still sat by her desk, lit with candles and blazing fire, she thought to offer a word of thanks to most likely candidates. Keeper Deshanna had raised her to pay her respects to Creators when it was due. It was only sensible thing to do, because the Dalish knew better than antagonize them.  
_“Thank you for my Nuglet. He has brought us much joy.”_ she wrote on a narrow piece of parchment. After a moment’s consideration, she signed the parchment with flourish. _“Inquisitor Figment Lavellan.”_ Surely the silent god who had taught the Dalish faith in a family deserved her name as much as the countless Orlesian nobles who still demanded thank-you notes about their gold. For proper completion, she pecked her finger with a needle and dropped a single drop of red on the paper.  
Figment tied the parchment around raven’s feather and threw it to flames, whispering the old words of a prayer. The wood in the fire cracked, and the raven feather started to burn with blue flame. It happened sometimes, Figment knew. Some of the hahrens said it meant Dirthamen listened. Solas would have said it was just the fire.  
She was wondering how to properly pay her respects to Mythal next – it seemed twice as important, considering she was leaving to All-Mother’s temple in two days. Nuglet still insisted his mother, the other Lavellan, was the All-Mother. It was sweet misunderstanding, even though a heretical one, too, from strictly religious perspective - when Solas entered the room.  
“He is well on his way to Fade, vhenan.” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “A wonder with all that tea he and Kieran drank tonight at dinner.”  
“Not everyone shares your displeasure towards tea, Solas.” Figment teased.  
“Why would I taste something so bitter when your skin tastes so much sweeter?” he asked, slipping his hands in front of her waist. His head bent to kiss her neck, and Figment shivered in pleased anticipation. Children were wonderful, but sleeping children were even better.

Two hours later the night had fallen and Solas was fast asleep on their rumbled bed. Figment, who could not sleep, decided to check on Nuglet. He generally slept well after Solas had learned to steer away from bedtime stories including farm animals like goats, but Figment liked to have something useful to do when she could not sleep.

She felt a cold draught coming from under the door when she pushed open the door to Nuglet’s room. The window, facing stairway leading to the battlements was wide open, and there was a shadow – no, a kneeling man by the bed. He held something white on his hand. The letter, opened.  
“Step away from my son.” Figment commanded, a protective fierceness making her blood burn all the sudden. She was so stricken with shock that it took a second before she saw that the bed was empty.  
The hooded figure turned to look at her. In the moonlight, she could not see much more than a glimmer of purple eyes and pale face under the hood, but the voice which spoke rang in her bones even though there was no sound.  
_“He is mine. Not yours.”_  
The man stood up, his wide cloak whirling around him, and he vanished in the moonlight reflecting on the floor. Nuglet’s bed was still faintly warm when Figment frantically felt for him, but he was not there. Only a letter remained, the seal broken open. Figment lifted it up. In childish, staggering letters it said:  
“Thank you for everything, kind lady Figment. We are going to Dirthamen’s temple so I can go home and he will help Kieran, too.”  
On the edge of paper, barely fitting, were two extra letters. S, which obviously stood for Shielan, and E. “Of E”, to be precise, even though the symbol for preposition was sloped. Shielan of E. What E?  
Not knowing what else to do, Figment raised his voice and shouted for Solas, starting to run. As soon as she reached the stairs, she was met by a distressed Cullen.  
“My guard – one of them, Jim, who isn’t the sharpest of the lot – reported seeing an archdemon earlier tonight, but nobody else had any sightings like that. So I stood on guard myself, just to be on safe side. I swear I just saw a huge grey dragon leaving from Skyhold towards north.” Cullen said, breathing heavily. “Either my withdrawal symptoms have gotten much worse than I ever believed, or something is very, very wrong.”  
“Solas!” Figment raised her voice again in panic, crumpling the letter in her hand. “Morrigan!”

 

Maybe there was no such thing as the right reaction to a fact that their child had decided to run away from home in the middle of a night, chased by an archdemon, an unknown but threatening stranger and a dragon, but Solas’ response was not the one Figment had expected. She had barely finished her panicked explanation when Morrigan turned into a bird and flew out from the window.  
“A raven.” Solas shook his head. “Fenedhis lasa!”  
He slammed his fist on the table with unfamiliar anger.  
“Tell me, vhenan. What colour Cullen said the second dragon was?”  
“Grey.” Figment replied.  
“Of course.” Solas hissed between his teeth. “I’m going to go after the children, now. Morrigan will never get there in time. Not in that form.”  
He pulled a shirt over his head and started to dress into his armor, faster than Figment had ever seen him act. His jaw was set into a tense line.  
“If you are going, I’m coming with you.” Figment announced.  
“You can’t.”  
“He is my boy as well.” she said firmly. “You are not leaving me behind in this. Whoever is after him, has made you this upset. It means he is dangerous, and you will need me to get Nuglet back.”  
Solas considered.  
“All right.” he finally said. “I have no time to argue. But on one condition. You will not ask questions. I have few special… talents I’ve learned in the Fade, and I prefer not to advertise them. My position as apostate mage is precarious enough as it is.”  
“As long as it isn’t you turning into a dragon, I think it will be all right.” Figment said, buttoning up her armor.  
“Not a dragon.” Solas replied with a grimace. “You’ll see when we get going.”

\--

Figment had never thought she would chase a dragon riding on the back of a huge, nightmarish wolf. It was distorting, really. The animal jumped effortlessly between Fade and waking world, taking one giant stride which barely touched the ground and leaping through the Beyond, only to land much further than naturally possible in the waking world. It actually could keep up with the dragon, Figment marvelled, hanging around wolf’s neck for dear life.

After one hour of pursuit, the terrain had changed from mountains to less rocky ground of frequent rains and howling wind. But the wolf was tireless chasing after its prey. Suddenly she glimpsed something up in the sky far ahead. A large, red archdemon was falling off the sky, driven downwards by a grey dragon which forced it to go lower until it crashed among the trees.  
“Look!” Figment shouted to Solas, pointing at the sky. The wolf beneath her lifted its snout towards the sky and howled a cold, sharp challenge. The dragons vanished from sight, and Figment steeled herself for a battle to come. She bent lower on wolf’s back, gripping her weapon with her free hand. The Anchor glinted brighter than ever, leaving a trail of green sparkles in their wake.

 

They jumped through the bushes in the small path leading between the trees. A stream babbled nearby, and the only sound was Nuglet... Crying? But Solas’ growl was suddenly cut short, and Figment stopped too, when her eyes focused in the soft dark.  
Their little boy stood in the middle of a path, clinging to hooded man’s legs and weeping. Kieran stood nearby, looking ashamed.  
“Oh, papae. I’m so sorry.” Nuglet wept. “I thought I was never going to find my way back. I didn’t mean to run away, and I’m sorry for everything I said. I will stay in my room for a hundred years, if you only take me back home.”  
The hooded man let out a sigh and picked him up.  
“I didn’t mean what I said about the baby and mamae. I wouldn’t turn them into stone. It was nasty thing to say.” Nuglet just cling to him harder like a monkey. It looked undignified, ruining the dramatic effect produced by man’s black cloak.  
“I know.” the man said, stroking Nuglet’s hair. “I will take you home, but you will not run away, ever. This could have turned out much worse. You don’t even understand what could have happened. Your mother has been deathly worried about you.”  
“I promise, papae.” Nuglet sniffed, trying to stop the flow of tears. But they were obviously tears of relief, and Figment felt her eyes tingling a bit. She was so happy for their little boy… Except he was their little boy no longer.  
“Nuglet?” Solas asked firmly, raising his voice to be heard. He had taken his own form again. “Kieran? Are you all right?”  
“Papae, it’s Solas from here. He and lady Figment took care of me when I ended up here. They were very nice. And this is Kieran. He is my best friend, and we were going to come to your temple so you could help with his problem...”  
The hooded man - Dirthamen, Figment’s shocked mind tried to suggest - put Nuglet down and drew his hand along his face in long-suffering gesture.  
“I have told you before, Shielan. That temple is no place for children in any world. And you have no way of knowing what would have answered to you even if you had gotten past the undead and the traps and temple looters. Not to even mention everything else… By the stars, you have inherited it from your mother.” the Keeper of Secrets muttered under his breath.  
Remembering he had audience, he pulled himself together and looked at Solas and Figment, pushing Nuglet behind his back with subtle gesture.  
“Solas.”, he nodded. “Back to your old tricks, I see. And I assume you are the Inquisitor here.”  
Dirthamen’s eyes stayed on her features for a moment, searching for something which was not there. A faint little smile appeared on his face, and he looked strangely pleased.  
“And you are?” Figment asked.  
“I go by many names. In this case, it is best if you simply call me one of my true titles. I’m Shielan’s father, come to take my wandering child back home.”  
Nuglet nudged his father, whispering something to his ear. Even though Figment tried to hear what he said, she couldn’t make out the exact words except something about grandmother.  
“And it also seems that I owe favours my son has promised. This might take some time.” Dirthamen sighed and gestured with his hand. Roots from a large tree rose up from the ground, forming a seat for him to sit on. Figment narrowed her eyes. It was a Dalish spell, taught for Firsts of her clan.  
“We have cookies. And tea.” Kieran offered shyly.  
“As long as it has no milk or sugar.” the Keeper of Secrets said.

It turned out to be one of the strangest nights in Figment’s whole life. She had never imagined she would sit in a forest and eat raisin cookies served with tea while Keeper of Secrets, a god of her People, listened his son tell stories about a pet nug. Solas was not as nearly as taken as she was. He was almost frosty at first, but Dirthamen did not seek for his company either, being polite whenever the discussion required it. Figment knew there was something between those two. Dirthamen had hinted at that much, and if Figment was honest with herself, she could tell the truth. There weren’t that many nightmarish wolves who were not awed by Keeper of Secrets’ sudden appearance. But she hid the truth in her heart, to think over it when it was better moment. This was not the time. This was a farewell.

“We can’t take the nug with us.” Dirthamen said firmly. “You know the rules. After what happened last time, you can’t take anything you haven’t brought with yourself.”  
“I understand.” Nuglet said, looking sad. But his expression brightened. “Kieran! Would you like to take care of Freyette?”  
“If mother will let me, I’d like that.” Kieran said with shy smile.  
“I will talk with her.”, Figment promised, earning two happy smiles and a slanted one from Solas. Dirthamen seemed amused, too, even though he hid it under the hood.  
“As for your problem, young man. She is not after you. It is a test for your mother.” the Keeper of Secrets said cryptically. “Believe me, it is better that way. You do not need extra voices in your head or in your dreams.”  
Kieran nodded, looking less confused that Figment had expected. Maybe it made sense to him.  
“And for us?” Solas arched his eyebrows. “What kind of divine blessing you are going to bestow up on us?”

His words were mocking, but Dirthamen was not provoked.  
“My world is somewhat further in the stream.” the Keeper of Secrets said. His eyes were oddly luminous in starlight, captivating. “For you, Solas. You could have so much more if you only decided to take it. It is there, right in front of you, and you could keep it. In my world, I harvested the fruit of your failure, and nothing else has ever tasted so sweet.”  
Even though the words were equally aggressive, his tone of voice was not. It was warm, almost soft. Nuglet, who sat on his knee, giggled, pleased to be part of a shared secret.  
“And now lady Figment!” he ordered his father. “Something nice for her.”  
“Something nice or something useful?” Dirthamen asked, complying.  
“Both?” she asked hopefully.  
“All right.” Dirthamen said, turning his gaze to her. There it was again, the faint smile which crinkled the corners of his eyes.  
“Don’t drink from the Well. And I think he needs a push. “, he said, nodding towards Solas.  
“Papae.” Nuglet said disapprovingly.  
“It was excellent advice, tailored to her goals.” Dirthamen said, undisturbed. “She is not the same person as your mother, and therefore not likely to want same things. It would be dreadfully boring if everything went down the same way everywhere.”  
“But what will become of me?” Nuglet asked, sounding worried.  
“A young man who has spent his first century never leaving the palace.” Dirthamen answered, effectively dodging his question. “That was what your mother told me to tell you.”  
Nuglet sighed.  
“All right, then. I think it will be nice to be grounded if it’s at home. The Veil feels so slimy here.”  
Figment snorted. Veil jokes. They were the universal language.

Dirthamen knelt down on one knee, taking a fine golden arrow from folds of his cloak. Nuglet held to his hand tightly, waving with his free hand to Kieran and Solas and Figment.  
“Thank you all, for your services.” the Keeper of Secrets nodded. His eyes were amused as he added lightly: “What I meant about the push, dear Inquisitor: You two should consider getting your own children instead of just dreaming about it or playing house with children not belonging to you. The act of having them is not that difficult. The difficult part comes after. And that possible future does not depend from the state of Veil, even though Solas keeps believing so.”  
“What did y—“, Figment started, but the moon moved behind a cloud just then, and when the stars illuminated the forest again, they were gone.  
“He always does that, even though it’s annoying. First he drops few bits of information, then the dramatic exit.” Solas had appeared next to her, slowly shaking his head. “I can’t help but wonder who let them all out.”  
“Not you, certainly?” Figment raised her eyebrows flirtatiously.  
“Of course not, vhenan. It was obvious that he fancied you a bit.” the Dread Wolf answered.


End file.
